


Human Error

by theplaidprincess



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Baker Street, 221B Ficlet, Case Fic, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Forehead Kisses, Johnlock - Freeform, Love, M/M, Naked Sherlock, squeee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:51:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theplaidprincess/pseuds/theplaidprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fluff fic about Sherlock and Johns life at 221b.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Declaration

**Author's Note:**

> My first fan fic type stuff, be kind please:)

John was not prepared.

He had been happily walking up the creaky steps of 221b when a loud shout shook the walls of the cramped stairwell. John dropped the bag of groceries he was carrying and sprinted the rest of the way up the stairs. His footsteps pounded an rhythm equal to that of his heartbeat.

“Sherlock?!” He shouted at the scene before him, “WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

The room was destroyed, the couch was spilling its fluffy insides, the walls were splattered with an unidentified substance, and Sherlock stood with his ratty robe hanging off one pale naked shoulder in the middle of it all.

“I’ve figured it out John,” he said; a manic grin splitting his face.

Johns anger simmered down slightly so that it bubbled just beneath the surface of his skin, “What?”

"Why you’re my pressure point," Sherlock’s voice dropped ,"It was incredibly obvious. I cant believe it took me so long to deduce."

"What?" John asked again.

“I love you John,” Sherlock took a number of steps forward until he stood directly before John. John stood paralyzed, his mouth open in astonishment. Johns eyes were wide, confused, and timidly happy.

“I love you John,” Sherlock repeated.

John gulped. He’d suspected for a while now, but he’d never thought that Sherlock would ever—say anything about it.

Sherlock smiled, “Its my human error, you see.” Sherlock pressed forward suddenly, pressing his lips to johns with ferocious intent.

John froze for only a moment before he responded with equal fervor.

-

Mrs. Hudson walked quietly up the steps, tea tray in hand, to check on the boys. It was loud up there, she reasoned, and that repetitive thumping couldn’t be good. Maybe it was the heater? She wondered.

Just before she opened the door, a shout echoed through the stairway. “OH MY GOD,” the exclamation was interrupted by a loud moan, “SHERLOCK.”

Mrs. Hudson stopped and a grin spread across her face. They’d finally started shagging, she thought.

“Better not disturb them,” she murmured to herself before returning to her apartment.


	2. A Naked Bum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johns lost his wallet, and Sherlock is bored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not really a complete story, more like bits of fluff that could or could not fit together.

Sherlock loved to play the violin. He loved the warm feel of the wood against his cheek. He loved the complex knowledge that combined with hard won talent to create something beautiful. He loved the way the playing it soothed him with blossoming peals of sound. He loved that through his analysis of the best string to pluck, he could create something soft, which was not hard or cold. He loved the way he could combine and create a collection of notes in millions of different ways. But he loved the way John looked at him more.  
When John, with his messy gray blonde hair would pad softly out of the room and come listen to him play. The fire would dance off of their faces and rise into the air, mixing with the music to create something Sherlock didn’t know how to describe.

  
He wasn’t bored on those nights. Boredom had been kept at bay by the adoring smile John wore with his eyes half closed and his hands wrapped around a cup of tea.  
Sherlock abruptly set down his violin.

  
He needed a case. One of the only things better than playing the violin for John was working a case with John.

  
His phone buzzed. It rattled on the coffee table with impeccable timing. Sherlock reached for it, his long pale arm stretching gracefully. The lock he had on his phone was completely random and one hundred percent un-deducible. He’d checked by leaving a replica unattended at Mycroft’s house for a week. The next time he’d seen his brother, Mycroft had been in a worse mood than the time Sherlock beat him at Guess Who.

  
I need your help. Meet me at that shop with the three legged cat sign as soon as you can.  
-JW  
On my way.  
-SH

  
Sherlock stood still for only a moment before dashing into the stairwell. He made only a few steps before he crashed into the remarkably solid form of Mrs. Hudson.

  
“Oh dear!” she exclaimed as the tray she had been carrying clattered to the bottom of the stairwell and tea splashed all over both of them and onto the wall. Luckily, Mrs. Hudson had started bringing plastic tea cups when it was only Sherlock in the flat.

  
“Oh! Sherlock,” she scolded in the high sweet tone she used so often, “You haven’t got on any pants!”

  
Sherlock didn’t respond, only kissed her on the forehead and edged around her.

  
“Sorry,” he said as he ran through the front doorway.

  
Mr. Hudson shook her head and sighed, “He’s going to stop traffic like that.”

  
-

  
John couldn’t find his wallet. It had disappeared somewhere between this restaurant and the flat. He really hoped it hadn’t been stolen; the wallet contained his credit card, his ID, and pretty much the only money he possessed.

  
John sat at the table where he and Sherlock had solved a case. It was a nice little place and the food was great. Of course, it didn’t hurt that their meals were always free.

  
His leg twitched up and down nervously. Sherlock would be there any moment. John pursed his lips and glanced out the window.  
Then his jaw dropped. Sherlock was sprinting down the street, oblivious to the angry honking and wide eyed stares of the people around him. Sherlock was completely naked. John gulped and adjusted the collar of his jumper. Was it getting hotter in here? He wondered with agitation.

  
Sherlock crossed the doorstep and stood directly before John, his eyes wild.

  
“Well?” He asked impatiently, “What’s the case?”

  
“Hmm,” John murmured. Johns eyes wandered the pale form of the detective.

  
“Well?”

  
“You’re not wearing any pants,” John stated, looking up into Sherlock eyes. His lips twitched into a smile.

  
Sherlock frowned and glanced downward. His lips parted slightly.

  
“That is how it would seem,” Sherlock responded after a short pause.

  
Then they burst out laughing. The entire restaurant turned to stare.  
Sherlock stopped laughing abruptly.

  
“A case, John. You said you had a case!” He reached out and grabbed John by the shoulders, as if he meant to shake him. His eyes were even wilder now than they had been before.

  
“Well, uh, I didn’t actually say I had a case,” John gulped.

  
“What? You said you had a case! Where is the case John?” Sherlock interrogated.

  
“Yes. Hm. Well, I seem to have lost my wallet,” John said.

  
“Your wallet?” Sherlock’s voice dropped, puzzled.

  
“Yup,” John licked his lips and rocked back on his heels.

  
Sherlock’s eyes narrowed and he pivoted around. His head tilted to the side as he steepled his fingers in front of him.

  
‘Yes. Hmmm.” Sherlock muttered under his breath.

  
He crouched to the ground and pressed his eye as close to the floor as possible.

  
“Um…Sherlock? What are you doing?” John asked.

  
“Clues john. I’m looking for clues,” He said.

  
“You do realize that you’re naked, don’t you?” John said to Sherlock’s naked bum.

  
It was a nice bum, he admitted to himself. Pale and taut, it connected nicely to his legs. John grinned. He was going to shag that nice bum later, when they weren't in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Although, if Sherlock kept doing that…..John shook his head sharply.

  
“Let me get you a table cloth,” John gestured to a waiter.

The boy sprinted off, presumably to the kitchens to get a table cloth. He returned quickly.  
Sherlock catapulted to his feet.

  
“We’re looking for a teenage boy of average height with bad posture and oily skin,” Sherlock stated, “Boring. Do endeavor to be more fascinating next time John.”

  
John handed Sherlock the table cloth with a sigh, “Well come on then. Let’s find him,” John said.

  
Sherlock laughed.

  
“He’s right behind you,” Sherlock lunged and grabbed the waiter who had gotten the table cloth.

  
-

  
“Boring,” Sherlock grumbled as he threw himself down on the couch, “A real case. I need a real case.”

  
He turned his head melodramatically towards the wall and curled into a ball.

  
“It was rather simple wasn't it,” John agreed. He sat down at the chair with his laptop.

  
Sherlock glanced over to see if John was watching him and quickly turned back. John pretended not to notice.

  
Sherlock huffed, “It was more than simple John. It was so explicitly boring I could have solved it while drugged.”

  
John rolled his eyes and set his laptop aside. He stood, and slightly unevenly walked over to the couch Sherlock was pouting on. He sat down in the empty space beside Sherlock’s back. Sherlock turned, his forehead creased. John reached forward and pressed the creases flat.  
He leaned forward, hesitating only slightly before he pressed his lips to where his fingers had just been. Sherlock’s forehead was warm under his lips. John closed his eyes.  
John felt Sherlock’s bony fingers on his cheeks pulling his face down. He willingly followed their urging until his face was directly above Sherlock’s.

  
Sherlock’s lips twitched into a smirk before he pulled John’s face down to his own.


End file.
